Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Bones
No-one in the group of friends saw Gerard for the rest of the week, save for Mikey
Who only saw him for five minutes at breakfast and dinner, until he finally joined them for lunch on Thursday. Said boy, sat at the far corner of the table with his forehead resting on the surface and his hands bunched in his hair. Once again, the boy had no food in front of him but he also didn’t have his usual comic book or sketchpad with him either.
“Hey Gerard,” Ray broke the silence that had fallen over the table for the past half hour, “didn’t you bring a comic book today?”
“I don’t like them anymore, I got rid of them,” the other persons present at the table raised an eyebrow and shared curious glances amongst themselves.
“How about your sketch pad?” Ray asked again.
“I can’t draw,” Gerard said, absentmindedly picking at paint under his stubbly nails.
“What do you mean you can’t draw?” Frank asked slowly, wondering if his best friend really had lost it.
“My drawings are rubbish, Bert hates them,”
Frank felt a surge of anger as soon as Bert was mentioned. He knew that little prick was something to do with regards recent change of character, and probably even his weight and confidence loss; except he had no solid proof for that. Frank watched Gerard closely for the rest of the lunch break, noticing every nervous twitch and the way he looks at the people around him as if they’re going to attack at any minute, also the way he pokes and pulls the small amount of skin that shows just above the waistband of his jeans where he discreetly pulled his shirt up.
Gerard jumped at the sound of the shrill bell, signalling the end of lunch and looked warily towards the jock’s usual table, half relieved to see it empty. He took a shaky step to his feet and pulled his backpack onto his back, quietly muttering his goodbyes. Frank steps forward and wrapped his dainty hands around Gerard’s wrist and turned the taller male to face him. “Can I come round after school today? For a horror movie marathon or something? We haven’t had one of those in a while,” Frank asked, rocking on his heels.
For a moment Gerard looked like he was about to object, Frank could practically feel him grasping for a lie as to why he couldn’t come round before he squeaked out a small ‘yeah’ and scuttled out of the lunch hall.
Frank just shrugged at the curious glances his friends were shooting him and walked in the vague direction of his next class.
*
Frank was leant against the school gates, cigarette between his lips when Gerard left the building, carried by the wave of bustling students. Gerard sluggishly walked over to his friend whose mood visibly brightened when he noticed him.
Gerard just raised an eyebrow and walked out of the gates, knowing Frank would follow him.
“So,” Gerard breaks the silence when they get to his house, “why did you suddenly wanna come round?”
“I wanted to hand around with my best friend, is that a crime now?”
Gerard looked doubtful but didn’t question it further before trudging down the stairs to his bedroom. Frank gasped as he entered the once familiar room and stopped short in the doorway. All of Gerard’s sketches that once adorned the walls were ripped to shreds and scattered across the floor, along with the remains of his comic book collection and posters.
“What the fuck happened in here?!” Frank asked in disbelief, blinking once, twice and scanning the room again; but nothing ever changed, all Gerard’s life work was ruined.
“I didn’t like them, so I tore them down,” Gerard shrugged the issue of as nothing and frank was glaring at him in hope to drill it into his head that it was definitely something, motherfucker.
“More like Bert didn’t like them,” Frank spat out his name before collapsing next to Gerard on the bed and wordlessly passing him the DVD he wanted to watch.
*
“Hey Gerard! Did you do that fo- What is he doing here?” Bert exclaimed as he crashed through the door halfway through the third movie.
“Were watching a movie...” Gerard murmured, hiding behind his curtain of hair.
“Well… make him leave! I need to talk to you in private!”
Frank rose from the bed and squared up to Bert; he’d had quite enough of the bastard.
“How about you leave, fucker,” Frank jabbed his finger into the jocks chest and bit back a grimace at the awkward angle the bones bent back.
Bert opened his mouth to start hurtling insults at the shorter man before a quiet, defeated voice broke the scuffle.
“Frank... I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”
Frank gaped at his supposed best friend before turning to Bert and spitting in his smirking face before storming out of the way household and out into the rain.
Frank muttered obscenities the whole walk home, cursing Bert and his fucking stupid face and whole fucking existence and for ruining his best friends life god dammit.
He was still fuming by the time he got home and consequently took his anger out on his guitar, snapping a string in the middle of playing. Why can’t he see that Bert is no good for him frank thought angrily.
Maybe one day he might notice how I feel about him.
*
Gerard walked into school the next day with a black eye that chilled Frank to the bone.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right gee?” he asked tentatively, willing himself not to stare because fucking hell that shiners huge.
“Of course,” Gerard eyed frank suspiciously as he tried to scoot around the shorter man who was blocking the way to his locker.
“Then who gave you the shiner?”
“Just drop it. Please Frank. Not today, I’m sorry,” Gerard pleaded, his eyes wide and begging; and right then, Frank knew something was seriously wrong.
Who only saw him for five minutes at breakfast and dinner, until he finally joined them for lunch on Thursday. Said boy, sat at the far corner of the table with his forehead resting on the surface and his hands bunched in his hair. Once again, the boy had no food in front of him but he also didn’t have his usual comic book or sketchpad with him either.
“Hey Gerard,” Ray broke the silence that had fallen over the table for the past half hour, “didn’t you bring a comic book today?”
“I don’t like them anymore, I got rid of them,” the other persons present at the table raised an eyebrow and shared curious glances amongst themselves.
“How about your sketch pad?” Ray asked again.
“I can’t draw,” Gerard said, absentmindedly picking at paint under his stubbly nails.
“What do you mean you can’t draw?” Frank asked slowly, wondering if his best friend really had lost it.
“My drawings are rubbish, Bert hates them,”
Frank felt a surge of anger as soon as Bert was mentioned. He knew that little prick was something to do with regards recent change of character, and probably even his weight and confidence loss; except he had no solid proof for that. Frank watched Gerard closely for the rest of the lunch break, noticing every nervous twitch and the way he looks at the people around him as if they’re going to attack at any minute, also the way he pokes and pulls the small amount of skin that shows just above the waistband of his jeans where he discreetly pulled his shirt up.
Gerard jumped at the sound of the shrill bell, signalling the end of lunch and looked warily towards the jock’s usual table, half relieved to see it empty. He took a shaky step to his feet and pulled his backpack onto his back, quietly muttering his goodbyes. Frank steps forward and wrapped his dainty hands around Gerard’s wrist and turned the taller male to face him. “Can I come round after school today? For a horror movie marathon or something? We haven’t had one of those in a while,” Frank asked, rocking on his heels.
For a moment Gerard looked like he was about to object, Frank could practically feel him grasping for a lie as to why he couldn’t come round before he squeaked out a small ‘yeah’ and scuttled out of the lunch hall.
Frank just shrugged at the curious glances his friends were shooting him and walked in the vague direction of his next class.
*
Frank was leant against the school gates, cigarette between his lips when Gerard left the building, carried by the wave of bustling students. Gerard sluggishly walked over to his friend whose mood visibly brightened when he noticed him.
Gerard just raised an eyebrow and walked out of the gates, knowing Frank would follow him.
“So,” Gerard breaks the silence when they get to his house, “why did you suddenly wanna come round?”
“I wanted to hand around with my best friend, is that a crime now?”
Gerard looked doubtful but didn’t question it further before trudging down the stairs to his bedroom. Frank gasped as he entered the once familiar room and stopped short in the doorway. All of Gerard’s sketches that once adorned the walls were ripped to shreds and scattered across the floor, along with the remains of his comic book collection and posters.
“What the fuck happened in here?!” Frank asked in disbelief, blinking once, twice and scanning the room again; but nothing ever changed, all Gerard’s life work was ruined.
“I didn’t like them, so I tore them down,” Gerard shrugged the issue of as nothing and frank was glaring at him in hope to drill it into his head that it was definitely something, motherfucker.
“More like Bert didn’t like them,” Frank spat out his name before collapsing next to Gerard on the bed and wordlessly passing him the DVD he wanted to watch.
*
“Hey Gerard! Did you do that fo- What is he doing here?” Bert exclaimed as he crashed through the door halfway through the third movie.
“Were watching a movie...” Gerard murmured, hiding behind his curtain of hair.
“Well… make him leave! I need to talk to you in private!”
Frank rose from the bed and squared up to Bert; he’d had quite enough of the bastard.
“How about you leave, fucker,” Frank jabbed his finger into the jocks chest and bit back a grimace at the awkward angle the bones bent back.
Bert opened his mouth to start hurtling insults at the shorter man before a quiet, defeated voice broke the scuffle.
“Frank... I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”
Frank gaped at his supposed best friend before turning to Bert and spitting in his smirking face before storming out of the way household and out into the rain.
Frank muttered obscenities the whole walk home, cursing Bert and his fucking stupid face and whole fucking existence and for ruining his best friends life god dammit.
He was still fuming by the time he got home and consequently took his anger out on his guitar, snapping a string in the middle of playing. Why can’t he see that Bert is no good for him frank thought angrily.
Maybe one day he might notice how I feel about him.
*
Gerard walked into school the next day with a black eye that chilled Frank to the bone.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right gee?” he asked tentatively, willing himself not to stare because fucking hell that shiners huge.
“Of course,” Gerard eyed frank suspiciously as he tried to scoot around the shorter man who was blocking the way to his locker.
“Then who gave you the shiner?”
“Just drop it. Please Frank. Not today, I’m sorry,” Gerard pleaded, his eyes wide and begging; and right then, Frank knew something was seriously wrong.
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